


Tenderness Well-Concealed

by WordsofSplendor



Category: The Man in the High Castle (TV)
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oberpruppana, Oral Sex, Rufus Sewell - Freeform, Sex, Sexual Goodness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 12:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13635990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsofSplendor/pseuds/WordsofSplendor
Summary: Juliana Crain discovers that when he is in love, Obergruppenführer John Smith is quite capable of being gentle. As delightful as the realization is, she often finds that she is taken aback by just how tender John can be.This summary is basically an attempt at a reasonably intellectual introduction to smutty smuttiness. :)





	Tenderness Well-Concealed

She’d known he had it in him to be very caring. She’d had the chance to observe him with his family back when he’d treated with distrust. He'd had various good reason to keep her at arms' length, of course. All very good ones. And yet, there was a pang of rejection that she detested. Juliana tried her hardest to suppress it, to mercilessly suffocate it. She’d failed time and time again. Somehow, his cold exterior triggered her curiousity. She was relentlessly looking for a confirmation of what she'd always suspected - that he is more than capable of warmth. Anything to justify her irrational interest, the inexplicable attraction. Curiousity led to observation and her discoveries soon followed - he was very tactile and had no problem manifesting his love through touch. He’d kiss his daughters’ foreheads and cheeks without being prompted, without waiting for an occasion to justify the tenderness. Understandably, frustratingly, he’d keep his hand on the small of Helen’s back even after so many years of marriage. It made her angry, his well-concealed kindness. It made her childish, envious and hungry for much the same.

**TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|**

It’s been two months since his first “I love you” and his caring, tender treatment of her shocked her less and thrilled her more. It was after such generous amounts of loving that he could obliterate her if he deprived her of his love. He could break her and she was certain he knew that well. But since there was nothing she could do to prevent the hypothetical wreckage, she allowed herself to be thoroughly loved and looked after.

It was a particularly cold day in November when she got to him, to their new home. Her skin felt bruised and painful from the frosty air and she quickly concluded that only a bath could salvage things. So, she announced her plan to him and kissed his mouth, then his cheek, and lingered there playfully.

“You are of no use now that you’re a frozen statue, Miss Crain,” he told her, sounding remarkably stern. And yet, he held her despite how cold her skin was - one hand across her shoulders and another around her tiny waist.

"Well, I suppose I should be on my merry way then," she sighed dramatically and attempted to move away from his warm body. He didn't let her. He held her and kissed her neck as he chuckled.

“Join me in the bath, John,” she pleaded quietly and took his hand in both of his.

“I’ll prepare the bath while you undress.” He kissed an eyelid and left her in their bedroom. He was good at not taking advantage of every potentially erotic opportunity. It warmed her, all of her.

She was holding her aching breasts in her hands, wincing from the pain when she entered their bathroom.

He looked amused, yes, but also sympathetic, “Does it hurt a lot?”

“God, yes! Hurry, undress and join me,” she instructed and was quick to get into the water.

***

He was sat in the bathtub, right behind her, accommodating her slender frame between his legs.

“Let me hold them, my hands are warmer,” he murmured and she was instantly aroused. It was always that easy because it was him. He’d made her tireless in her desire for him, relentless. So, she let go of her breasts and busied them on his thighs instead.

“Shhh, it’ll pass,” he soothed when she winced again. He held her breasts and nipples, warming them, “It’ll feel better in just a moment, sweetheart.”

And it did.

She nodded and continued to caress his legs. It was delicious, she thought, the feel her arousal and his, and not acting on it with frenzy. It felt wonderful to know they had time, all the time in the world. Postponing lovemaking in favor of tending to one another in other ways was somewhat of a luxury, a promise for more of the same.

She concluded this was happiness.

 

**TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|TMITHC|**

Not for the first time since they’d become intimate, Juliana found herself joyously baffled by his tenderness. Her heart was full, overwhelmed, almost unable to assimilate his careful touches. He’d been seeking absolution with his head resting on her lower stomach, his lips near her mound. She could feel his breath on her, as well as his fingers as they traced patterns over her scarred flesh. He’d kiss the apex of her thighs periodically, every time he’d feel the muscles of her abdomen twitch in response to his ministrations. If he kept doing that, he’d have her believe him. She was close, so very close to believing that she’d be enough, that she WAS enough, barren as she was. He made her doubt that, not too long ago.  
  
“Are you alright?” he’d ask once every two or three minutes. He was perceptive, analytical and incredibly good at reading people; at reading her. Her surprise, the delightful shock caused by their newfound closeness was not lost on him. He chuckled, a cosmic, genuine sound, “I’ve asked you a minute ago, didn’t I?”  
  
“Mm, five minutes ago, perhaps,” she murmured a confirmation and was quick to run her fingers through his hair. He wasn’t alone in this, in their new, fragile reality. She had to reaffirm this, he had to know. “I’m alright. Better. Very good.”  
  
He lifted his head as his fingers traveled to the hairs of her mound, just to stroke and soothe. When he moved two fingers down along her folds, she laughed. “John, wait. It’s too soon,” she giggled and squirmed long enough for him to move, to face her and kiss both her eyelids. His hands remained planted on her wet flesh as he enveloped her.  
  
“Sleep, sweetheart.”  
  
“Only if you hold me, John.” And he did.

 


End file.
